Love in Cold Blood
by SnowxWhitexQueen
Summary: NOT a songfic! When Harry picked the page up, he never imagined that the pain filling it would affect him so deeply. What man could feel such heartache aside from him? Was he even still alive? Harry has to know...Even if it costs him everything. Please RR
1. In Search for Death

_'How is it that my heart has stopped beating, yet my emotions run wild? This new verse terrifies me to no end. I am still the cursed man I was before-why? Why must I still feel this disgusting thing? My detached soul weeps for what I must now do. What I could not do before. Even to save my own life. I cannot. I cannot. But I must. I must take human life to sustain my own. Only this time...there is no Dumbledore to offer me protection. No Harry Bloody Potter to fight for me. I am alone now._

_'Father swore that I would never touch the things that he would have granted me. He screamed that I was no son of his. Vowed that no heir would ever turn their back to the cause. So what have I now? Only this dark, molding cave. And the rats that are dying steadily. I wonder what Severus would have said._

_'Severus...dear Severus, in his grave. A place I almost long to share. My dear Severus would have known how to help me. He could have offered me anything at his disposal. But could have is useless now. And isn't it strange that...for all that was lost in the war...the only one I cry for is him? But he was everything good in my world. My Severus. He never lied to me. He never forced me to choose. He was a strong man. He was always there to guide me. Not once did he steer from the honest truth, not once._

_'Oh how I miss that man. So much more a father than the man who created me. A man who would rather to inform ALL truths rather than senseless ideals rooted in fear and brainwashing. I do miss him so. If only I had the strength to join him now. But I can't even gather up the stones to finally do it. I am such a cowardice man. Not even a man, but still a child in my terror.'_

Harry stared at the torn and dirty page in pity. Despair so like his own was pored into the words as though he had written it. 'Who could have written this?' the young man wondered. His mind couldn't bring anyone who would be in such pain. But his heart wept along with the man who wrote this. The hints were there, Harry was sure. Especially the mention of him. But how to piece them together? He would normally take this to Hermione, but her workload as of late was grueling. Besides the addition of a new baby soon.

No, Harry Potter was on his own to figure it out. So he sat. He brainstormed. He thought harder than he ever had before. And he had no idea why it weighed so heavily on him to do so. He mused that perhaps he felt so strongly for this person's pain that he _needed_ to save him. But hecould worry about the why later. Now, it was getting late, and he wanted to get home soon, as Ginny and the children were leaving tomorrow for Hogwarts.

At the retirement of Madam Hooch, Ginny was asked to take on the job of Flying Professor and Quidditch coach. Truly, Harry was pleased for her. She loved Quidditch nearly as much as he did, and she missed Hogwarts. So he would let this little mystery of his wait until tomorrow night.


	2. The Adored and Beloved

I forgot to say it before, so I'm sayin it now…..I OWN NOTHING BUT THE PLOT! Please don't sue me, Ms. Rowling! I'm poor!

So today, Harry Potter would say goodbye to his wife and his children. He would be alone for ten long months. But the mystery he had stumbled upon yesterday would help a little.

He mused on this at breakfast that morning. He had told Ginny about the parchment when he returned home the evening before. Though it was clear she worried for her husband, she encouraged him to work on it in his spare time. It was her way of saying "Don't go crazy missing us," and Harry was pleased for it.

Of course she had offered to help him, but Harry had told her that it would interfere with her work. They went to bed with assurances that Harry would be fine. He could figure it out on his own, and he would keep Ginny posted on his findings.

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts when Lily bounced down the stairs, grinning and sporting what must have been her tenth hair style that hour. "Does this look alright, Daddy?" Harry smiled as James and Albus rolled their eyes in unison at their sister's uncanny ability to become frighteningly girly as the clocked ticked down to eleven. Ginny gave each boy a light swat on their heads with the Daily Prophet as Lily twirled around to show her family.

An hour and twelve outfits later, the Potter family piled into the car Harry had rented just for this occasion. As the kids were getting their seatbelts on, Harry started the engine after sharing a long look with Ginny. As they took off, the beautiful redhead laid her head on Harry's shoulder where it stayed for the entire trip.

Once the hectic atmosphere of Platform nine and three-quarters was upon them, Harry and Ginny held on as if they would never be reunited. "Don't kill yourself with research, love. Make sure you get some sleep." Harry grinned and kissed her soundly. "I'll be fine, Gin. You just remember to keep those first years in line." He winked at her and she smiled, remembering exactly how he had gotten on the Quidditch team in the first place.

Ginny smiled and kissed the love of her life once more, and stood aside as he said his goodbyes to the children. "You boys had better keep out of trouble. One toe out of line and your mum just may have to call your gran." The boys looked horrified at this thought. For though Molly Weasley had mellowed in the years, she was still a force to be reckoned with. Lily, meanwhile, smirked, no doubt imagining the spankings her brothers would get this year before her father turned bright eyes on her.

"Don't be frightened of the creatures Hagrid has you learning about, sweetheart. He would never let his students be seriously hurt." Lily pouted at the man, and put her hands on her hips. "I'm not a baby, Dad. I know Professor Hagrid won't let me get hurt. Besides...I don't think there's anything scarier than Uncle George's experiments." She smiled cheekily before her father continued. "Just study hard, and don't worry about what house you're put into."

This time, the smile was confident, and carefree. "I'm not worried, Daddy. If I get into Slytherin, then I can at least plot pranks just as good as the boys." Harry laughed at this, but fixed his face into a stern expression at the clearing of Ginny's throat. "I mean don't get yourself into trouble over petty house rivalries. Just concentrate on your studies and owl me whenever you can." Lily giggled at her father as he swept her into a big hug, kissing her cheek and winking as he straightened.

Their goodbyes ended just as the train whistle blew. Harry and Ginny stole one last kiss before she and the children hurried onto the train, trunks and all. Harry smiled fondly at all of them staring out the window and waved until his arm felt like it was falling off. Once the train was out of sight, Harry turned and proceeded to cross the barrier and headed to his car. He took a few moments before he decided to just go home.

Once he was home, Harry immediately felt the loneliness that Ginny had warned him against. He sighed and dropped gracelessly into his favourite chair in front of the television. He usually didn't watch much TV, but at the moment, he just wanted a distraction. It was about three hours into a Torchwood marathon that he thought about the journal page.

Smacking his forehead, Harry turned off the TV, and strode toward his study. As he sat at his desk, he closed his eyes for a few moments, trying to think of the best approach to the situation at hand. Opening his eyes, he took a quill, ink, and a roll of parchment from his drawer, and reread the page very carefully. As he read, he noted facts about the person who wrote it.

After about two hours, Harry had compiled all he felt he could that day. The person was not human-undead to be specific, but could not bring himself to kill humans. The person had a certain distaste for Harry, himself. This vampire-or whatever-had been offered protection from Dumbledore. He had had a close relationship with Severus-so much so to cry for the man. He had been disowned, apparently. His father had been hard on him, and idealistic. And last but certainly not to be overlooked, this man was horribly suicidal.

Just as Harry was clearing away his things, his stomach gave a gurgling growl that caught the man by surprise. Frowning to himself, Harry closed the drawer in his desk and went to find something to eat.

Not two seconds after Harry had turned on the stove to cook himself a hamburger, he heard Ron's voice from the living room. Turning off the fire, he wiped his hands on a towel, and went to speak to his friend. Ron stared up at him from the fireplace, looking pleased, but a bit stressed. "Hi, Harry. You alright, mate?" Harry grinned at his best friend. "Yea, I'm good, Ron. Just trying to cook my dinner."

He gave his mate a cheeky smile and abruptly changed the subject. "So, I'm guessing Mione's hormones are acting up again?" At this, Ron gave a look behind him before he answered. "You'd think I would've prepared for this after the Rose and Hugo, but this is getting insane! It's as if everything I do is an evil plot!"

Harry quirked a grin at his ginger friend, and gestured with his head to come through. Ron turned from the fireplace, shouting to his wife before he appeared in Harry's living room.

That night was full of raucous laughter and the reminiscence of their school days together. At one point, Harry hiccupped through a glass of wine about his new mystery. Ron had giggled through the story with incoherence. Obviously, Ron had never been great at holding his alcohol.

As the night ore on, and both men began to lose their respective buzzes, Harry brought the parchment for Ron to read over. After a few moments, he spoke. "Why do you want to help this bloke, Harry? I mean you said it yourself he doesn't exactly like you. So what if you find him and he doesn't even want your help?"

Harry gazed at his friend through half glazed eyes. "_That_ is possibly the most logical thing you've ever said in your life, Ron," he slurred. At Harry's grin, Ron opened another bottle of vodka and giggled. "That's not what the wife says, mate. She reckons I've never been logical. Not even once! I'm lozhical, right?" Ron had been slurring since his third drink, but only now did it amuse Harry.

"Well, when ya say it that way, I guesh you are! Lozhical, heehee!" Not long after, both men fell asleep on the floor, pissed beyond reason, and thoroughly pleased at spending time together. Neither thought of the hangovers that were inevitable.


	3. Breathe Me in, Sweet Suffering

Please don't sue me, Ms. Rowling! I'm not making any money from this! I'm poor! runs away from the ax-wielding author

* * *

A week had passed since the boys' little drinking binge. Since then, Harry had studied the parchment every day before work. He dared not tell the Ministry about this as there was a lot of animosity between the wizarding and undead communities at the moment.

It seemed that young vampires were escaping the custody of their elders and feeding brutally on whatever humans they could find. This defied a truce settled by the two communities which stated that the vampires would be able to feed from lesser criminals in Azkaban-but not kill them-as well as willing donors as long as they did not kill them.

This had Harry thinking hard one night after he had come home from a long day. _'Perhaps this vampire was an escapee?'_ Though, if that were the case, why would he be afraid to kill? Still, it seemed that this had to be a younger vampire. _'After all, any elder would know how to feed without killing…'_

As a yawn and stretch came over Harry, he politely summoned Kreacher. "Kreacher, would you grab me a cup of coffee, please? I'm going to be here awhile longer, it seems." The small elf nodded respectfully, and popped out of the room. When he came back moments later, Harry smiled kindly, and gave Kreacher a pat on the head and a small sweet.

Through the years, Kreacher had come to almost love Harry and his family. Harry had found that the elf had a sweet tooth, and loved hard candies the most. However Harry was careful not to give him too much as the creature would get very hyper and have a stomach ache later.

Harry turned his eyes back to the dirty parchment. He rubbed his tired eyes and took a sip of coffee as the gears in his head started turning again. He was trying to think of what other clues he could squeeze from the words. _'__Vowed that no heir would ever turn their back to the cause…' _He thought of two possibilities he could get from that sentence alone. The person was possibly a pureblood, and very likely a former supporter of Voldemort.

Upon the latter thought, he smacked his forehead. _'Of course! He was close to Severus, so it's almost absolute that he was a Death Eater-or at least a supporter, anyway! Hermione would kick me for being so stupid._' Chuckling to himself, Harry noted these things on his list. He wondered if whoever it was would even accept his help, or turn away in disgust.

He certainly hoped that whoever this was would accept the hand Harry would offer. It was entirely too strange, if one dwelled on it, but the link that Harry felt to this person was stronger than it should have been. The fact that he had no idea who it was…well that just drove him slightly madder than he was before.

Sighing again, Harry closed his eyes, and merely breathed. For a few moments, he just let his thoughts slip away, allowing himself to coast adrift in his head until something brought him to a stop. He knew what his next step was now. He saw it as clearly as the sunset on the beach.

He was certainly glad that he had no work the next day. This trip was going to be just as long as the last one. Only this time, he would be aware. When he came to the cave this time, he would be looking for something-anything-to signify that someone could have ever been there.

Settling on the fact that he needed rest to make the journey, Harry put everything back into its proper place, deposited his coffee cup into the kitchen sink, and bid Kreacher goodnight before he headed in for a brief shower.

Dropping slowly onto his bed, Harry set an alarm spell for early the next morning, and drifted peacefully to sleep. Tomorrow would be a trying day.


End file.
